Is his name Duncan?
by Aquamarina15
Summary: Clark invites Erin to his apartment for a "newscasting audition"! Pete, ever knowledgeable about current events and local news, sees through it before Clark even begins, and is relatively annoyed. I may edit this later...it's not really my favorite, I was kinda digging around my notes and found it. Rated T for language. Trust me, it's a little worse than my others...


I never want to sit next to Clark, but he's the only guy in the office who I'm not a little scared of. The deal is, we're the youngest guys here-us and Erin, who sits either by herself or with Andy. I think Erin is about our age, but I don't really know. I should ask sometime.

That's why I'm sitting in the break room, eating my breakfast bar with Clark rather than sit alone like a loser. Everyone here already thinks I'm a loser; I don't really want to encourage such beliefs. Clark got me a coffee, too, which might have been nice if he'd asked me how I like it, because I only like one sugar and he gave me what tastes like three. Erin walks in, sees us, and smiles. "Hey, Clark. Hi, Pete," she says, and Clark waves because he's on his cell phone-yeah, I don't look like a loser; I'm sitting with a dude who's talking on the phone-but I say, "sup, Erin?", just a little mesmerized by her smile. She opens a small container of fruit and sits down a few tables from us, facing the door. I guess she's waiting for someone-Andy. My stomach twists unpleasantly.

Clark shouts something into his phone, at someone named Duncan, says, "Listen, I would love to help you, Duncan, but where am I going to find someone who's pretty, smart, and well-informed?-hold on-hold on! Erin!" She turns around, eyebrows raised in a silent inquiry. I take a sip of coffee, swallowing down the lump that rises in my throat. If I'm right in what I'm thinking, this is going to be terrible.

"Erin, do you know anybody that might..." The way he trails off and the shock on his face is so fake I want to crack up. However, my heart is sinking, so I don't crack a smile. Erin just looks confused, and slightly intrigued-sweet, but silly. Clark proceeds to do just as I feared he would.

"Oh my gosh. You love the news, right?"

She blinks, surprised, and glances downwards. "Well, it depends...I mean, sometimes I find out things that are really sad." My heart swells, just a little, at those words; she's so adorable.

"Well, I've got a buddy that's a big-time local news producer. And I can't tell you his name, but it'd blow your mind."

I hate the way he's talking, the way she's falling for it. My heart's pounding at the idea that Clark would really try to pull a move on Erin using this news job-and I know who Duncan is. So, just to rain on his parade, I say, "uhm...is it Duncan?" and lift my coffee cup to my lips.

Bastard doesn't even bat an eyelash. Just keeps talking. "He's looking for all-new talent, and he'd kill me if I didn't get you on tape." Screw you, man, screw you, I'm muttering in my head.

"You mean put me on the news?" Erin asks. Her voice is forcedly flat, but I can hear the excitement and incredulous feelings bubbling below the surface. Clark knows she's naive. That's why it's so easy for him. Could he just shut the hell up and leave her alone?

"You'd just come over, put on a little lipstick, loosen up with a glass of red wine, and run through a few stories." How does she not see through this? And, she doesn't strike me as the type to hold her alcohol well. He cracks his knuckles-even I think that's a bad habit. "You know, a couple different ways, with a couple different outfits. It'd be really tasteful"-but you're not-"and it'd really help me out with Dun-with my friend." I take my time drinking the coffee, but glance at her before I put the cup down-she's grinning like he just gave her a million dollars. So sweet! How can she not see he's trying to have sex with her?

"What do you say? Huh?" He asks, and she laughs. She has this sweet high laugh that lingers in the air like snowflakes. My stomach flips and I lower my eyes to the floor. She's practically beaming.

"Maybe! Maybe, okay? I have to think about it." I lift my eyes to her face, still in shock-really? She's incredibly naive. Clark is a terrible actor. But the cute little "ooh" she makes as she turns back around, the smile threatening to crack her face is enough to make me glad I'm sitting, because my knees go weak.

"Think it over," Clark says, and punches me in the shoulder-a little too hard for a friendly one, I think. I don't look at him. My eyes are glued to the back of her head. I just nod and press my lips together-sure man, sure.

And...just...you douchebag.


End file.
